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Nodding, she whispers, “Good night.”
The sound of the bedroom door closing is as loud as cannon fire, making it abundantly clear that we are now alone with only mixed feelings and the remains of the adrenaline we were riding earlier between us. His gaze is on me so hot I don’t know where to look.
“That was nice of you,” he murmurs. I shrug. I didn’t really do anything, only lent an ear, only did what any decent person would’ve done. “I wouldn’t have known what to say.”
“You offered her your home. It’s probably the only place she feels safe. You’re doing all you can.”
Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees and runs a hand over his head. And god do I want to do the same. I want to run my fingers through the long silky black locks and tell him it’s going to be okay.
“I’ll never understand why women stay with men that make them feel like garbage.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he catches the mistake and searches my face.
“Don’t you?”
My eyes drop as I shove my hands in the front pockets of my jean shorts. Unfortunately, I end up jamming the fingers on the hand with the cast. “Ouch.”
Noah stands and takes my hand in his, gently massaging my aching digits. He’s close. So close I feel the puff of breath he exhales ruffle the top of my hair. I feel his body heat embrace me. I see him swallow the same nerves I’m feeling.
“You scared me half to death.” His voice is quiet, raspy. It fans the heat quickly spreading throughout my body. I can feel it crawling up my neck, accumulating in between my legs, and it embarrasses me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see him holding a gun so I assumed there wasn’t one.” I shake my head. “It was stupid.”
“Maren…” At the sound of his voice, scored with so much emotion, I glance up. Very slowly he reaches out and pushes a loose strand of hair out of my face. “We were friends long before we were anything else…”
The events of the night have taken a toll. I’m exhausted and not in the right frame of mind to handle any more revelations. I’m not ready to hash out ten years’ worth of pent-up feelings because without a doubt my heart is at stake. And as hard as I’ve worked to mend it, one tug on the stitches and I’m afraid it’ll fall apart again. And I’m not strong enough to withstand it one more time. I can’t take that chance again.
“It’s late. I’m gonna get going.” I back away one slow step at a time. “I’ll see you at Rowdy’s?”
In the heavy pause he stares at me longingly. His lips part, words seemingly on the tip of his tongue. The suspense is nearly killing me but I don’t make a peep. I wait him out.
“How do you feel about going to the lake tomorrow?”
My feet stop. “The lake?” I like the idea and it’s time. One more chapter wrapped up. It’s time to say goodbye to my grandfather. “Yeah, okay.”
He crosses his arms and nods. His forlorn expression is the last image I see right before I close his front door. And it stays with me as I toss and turn all night.
Chapter Twenty
Maren
After the funeral, things between us changed. It was late February. Football season was over so Noah decided to live at home instead of going back to the house on campus he shared with some of his teammates.
That first night back after being released from the hospital was brutal. He unlocked the front door and pushed it open, took a small step over the threshold of the empty house and just stared, his expression vacant.
“Will you stay?” he said quietly into the darkness.
I never left.
It was my senior year. I was busy––with school as well as training for tournaments. My parents were being super understanding about me practically living with him. To this day it surprises me they didn’t make a fuss. Maybe because they understood more than I did, that at the time Noah was not interested in being anything other my friend.
He slept every night holding me so tightly it took me a week to get comfortable with the steel strength of his arms banded around me. After which it was impossible to sleep without them. I still have trouble now.
Time marched on. Winter turned into spring. I started traveling for tournaments again. Noah went back to class, began spending time with his friends. But there was no denying that he felt most comfortable around me. The heartache had changed him irrevocably. The mischief was gone, the thrill-seeker nowhere to be found. He wasn’t the leader of the pack anymore, preferring to hang in the background. It took some getting used to.
